


Strawberries

by aosav



Series: Kageyama Friendships [13]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 00:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14484831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aosav/pseuds/aosav
Summary: Kunimi and Kageyama run into each other at the grocery store.





	Strawberries

**Part One: The Shop**

Kunimi has been called lazy, but, really, he just doesn’t like to waste things – his time, his effort, his energy. He’s the guy who saves the last two spoonfuls of rice because someone might eat them later, even though some people might say there’s not enough there to make it worth saving. He’s the guy who always mends his shirts instead of replacing them. He’s the guy who waits until everyone else is tired and then puts in the effort to make the difference, not the guy who jumps for every toss and fights to get the most playing time he can. He doesn’t like to waste anything, especially not his own time.

He certainly doesn’t waste his time stewing on the past. He doesn’t waste his time looking backwards. He doesn’t waste his time by analyzing every little thing he’s ever done or said and by wondering what he could have or should have or would have done differently if he had the chance.

He doesn’t waste his time regretting things that are already done.

This is what makes Kageyama Tobio so very annoying.

It’s ridiculous, because middle school is over and they all made choices that might be worth regretting – if Kunimi was the sort of person who regretted things, which he isn’t – but it doesn’t matter now because it’s in the past and so Kunimi doesn’t want to think about it.

And yet here he is, thinking about it.

Middle school is over, but Kageyama still manages to make his life difficult sometimes.

Kageyama is currently standing in the produce section of the grocery store, staring down at a display of root vegetables. Kunimi, hiding behind a tower of freshly baked bread in the adjacent in-store bakery, is watching him.

Kunimi has seen Kageyama since they parted ways in middle school, of course, but that was different. Kageyama on the court and Kageyama off the court are distinct entities for Kunimi, not because Kageyama acts all that differently in the two environments but because … well.

Kunimi doesn’t like stewing on the past, but he isn’t one to toss out a good thing, either, and before everything went so incredibly wrong, things between himself, Kindaichi, and Kageyama were actually really good. Kageyama has been weird and kind of withdrawn since Kunimi met him, at least, but he wasn’t always angry like he is now. In fact, Kageyama was, when Kunimi first met him, a sweet – if rather oblivious – kid.

During their first year at Kitagawa Daiichi, the three of them spent most of their time together, even when they weren’t practicing. Kunimi helped Kindaichi and Kageyama with homework, Kindaichi entertained them with overblown stories about his mess of cousins, and Kageyama, as strange as it seems now, was the calm in their storm. Nothing ruffled Kageyama back then; he was a one-track-mind person, just like now, but as long as he had a legitimate-to-him reason to do something, he did it, and that was that. When Kindaichi was emotional, Kageyama was rational – sometimes infuriatingly so; when Kunimi was stressed, Kageyama offered perspective – usually somewhat accidentally, but still. Kageyama's bluntness could be irritating and his difficulty in reading people led to multiple near-friendship-ending fights, but it all came out in the wash. At the end of the day, the three of them worked together: Kunimi's focus, Kindaichi's feelings, and Kageyama's honesty.

Something changed, though, after Oikawa graduated, after Kageyama was made the team’s official setter in their second year. Kunimi knows that Kageyama went to visit Oikawa at Seijou and that Kageyama was different when he came back – abrupt and quick-tempered, easily frustrated and self-protective like an animal backed into a corner. It didn’t make any sense but, despite Kunimi and Kindaichi’s – mostly Kindaichi's – attempts to talk to him, Kageyama was shut down. More than that, Kageyama was _mean_ in a way he never had been before. Tact was never part of Kageyama's repertoire, but he went from blunt to antagonistic so fast everyone else ended up just reacting. Kindaichi took it the worst; he was the most emotional of the three of them, and once Kageyama abandoned sometimes-stinging but well-intentioned directness in favor of harshly biting aggression, Kindaichi … unraveled.

Kunimi isn’t proud of choosing Kindaichi over Kageyama. He took no pleasure in orchestrating that play. But Kageyama wouldn’t be reasoned with and Kindaichi was crying in the bathroom after every game and Kunimi wasn’t about to let his best friend fall completely apart at the hands of some guy they used to eat ice cream with while they talked over homework assignments and blocking techniques.

It didn’t fix everything, but Kindaichi is less broken now than he would have been if Kunimi had done nothing. If Kunimi doesn’t believe that, then the fear he sees in Kageyama now, the fear that Kunimi knows he put there, would be unbearable.

So it’s a good thing that Kunimi isn’t one to second-guess or regret his decisions.

It’s a good thing it doesn’t matter to him what might have been.

Kageyama picks up a bag of potatoes, holding it up to examine it with a relaxed, open expression that Kunimi hasn’t seen in literal years, and Kunimi turns away. He slips out of the store without buying anything. He can come back later, though he hates to waste the trip.

Some losses are easier to take than others.

 

* * *

 

**Part Two: The Bus Stop**

Kageyama finishes his shopping quickly. He only needed the potatoes. He bought some strawberries, too, because they looked really fresh and delicious and because the woman at the counter said he should, for the vitamins. They taste as good as they look.

He has a strawberry in his mouth as he steps outside the shop and turns right to head home, only to come up short when he sees Kunimi standing at the bus stop at the end of the street. Kunimi must see him, too, because he glances in Kageyama's direction and then looks away very quickly. Kageyama feels tense, suddenly. His grip on the shopping bag tightens, the strap digging into his palm uncomfortably. He doesn’t want to talk to Kunimi. But he needs to take that bus – it’s too far to walk if he wants to get home in time to meet Hinata at the park for some practice before Hinata has to be home for dinner.

He doesn’t want to miss practicing with Hinata, so he walks over even though he doesn’t want to. Kunimi doesn’t look up from his phone and Kageyama doesn’t look at him either.

They are both silent for a while, waiting for the bus.

Kunimi taps at his phone.

Kageyama pulls another strawberry from the bag.

As he raises the strawberry to his mouth, he sees Kunimi look at him sidelong. Kageyama can’t read his expression, but that’s nothing new with Kunimi. It makes his shoulders hunch up.

“What?” Kageyama asks, lowering the strawberry.

Kunimi looks away again, back down at his phone. “Nothing,” he says.

It doesn’t sound like nothing, though. Kunimi is like this – he says one thing when he means something else. Kageyama never figured out how to tell what Kunimi actually means, but he does know how to tell when Kunimi means something that isn’t what he’s saying. It makes Kageyama uneasy.

“What is it?” Kageyama asks again. The strawberry squishes a bit between his fingers, the juice staining his skin. His chest feels tight, which is annoying. Kageyama has no reason to be nervous around Kunimi. They have met on the court more than once now since middle school and nothing bad happened. Kageyama isn’t on the same team as Kunimi anymore; what Kunimi thinks and does shouldn’t matter to Kageyama anymore except so that Kageyama can beat him at volleyball.

Kunimi glances at him again. Kageyama scowls. Kunimi's eyes focus on the strawberry dripping juice onto Kageyama's hand; he nods at it.

“They’re Kindaichi's favorite,” Kunimi says, his voice and expression both completely flat.

They are. The three of them – Kageyama, Kunimi, and Kindaichi – ate a lot of strawberries in middle school, courtesy of Kindaichi's aunt and uncle who own a strawberry farm. Kindaichi called that first summer they knew each other the Summer of the Strawberry.

Kageyama doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t have anything to say. They both know that Kindaichi likes strawberries. There isn’t anything Kageyama needs to say in response.

After a moment, Kunimi looks down at his phone again. Kageyama figures the conversation is probably over and bites into his strawberry. It doesn’t taste as good as the first one did. As he is licking the strawberry juice off of his hand to get the stickiness off, Kunimi speaks again.

“That was a good summer.”

Kageyama looks at him. Kunimi is staring at Kageyama's grocery bag.

“It was,” Kageyama agrees. It was the year he started playing volleyball, and that summer was filled with fumbling tosses and receives in the grass of the park near Kunimi's house before they all went back to Kunimi's or Kindaichi's to do homework and eat strawberries until Kageyama would walk home as the sun went down. It was a very good summer. It wasn’t lonely at all.

Kunimi is still looking at the grocery bag. The strawberries inside are barely visible. They look farther away than they are, tucked into the bag like that. They look far away, even though they are close enough to touch.

Kageyama reaches in and takes a strawberry from the bag. Kunimi watches him and, when Kageyama looks up at him, Kunimi meets his eyes. Kageyama offers the strawberry to him.

Kunimi hesitates.

Kageyama keeps holding the strawberry out. Kunimi looks like he wants to take it and Kageyama wants him to have it. He isn’t sure what Kunimi is thinking as he stares at Kageyama. He’s never known what Kunimi is thinking. Not ever. Maybe if Kageyama could tell what Kunimi is thinking better he wouldn’t have been so surprised by what the team did during that last game in middle school. It doesn’t matter now, since Kageyama and Kunimi aren’t on the same team anymore, but … some of Suga's advice about volleyball has been useful outside of volleyball, too. Maybe what Suga has said about “making a gesture” can apply in situations like this, and not just in making things better between him and his team’s spikers. And Kageyama would like to make things better with Kunimi. Kindaichi wouldn’t let him apologize so Kageyama didn’t even try to apologize to Kunimi, but he can at least make a gesture.

Finally, after a long moment, just as Kageyama is getting tired of holding his arm out, Kunimi sighs. Or he laughs. It’s hard to tell with Kunimi. Then he reaches across the space between them and takes the strawberry.

As Kunimi takes a bite, Kageyama feels a flash of pleasure even though he isn’t the one eating. He shifts the bag in his hand, relaxing his grip on it and rolling the tension out of his shoulders.

The tight feeling in his chest is gone now.

When the bus comes, Kunimi sits in the first open seat and Kageyama sits towards the back. Kunimi doesn’t wave when he gets off at his stop; neither does Kageyama.

His fingers are tacky as he reaches into the bag on the seat beside him and, when he bites into another strawberry, it tastes even better than he expected.


End file.
